


Suleykaar Mun Ko Keizaal

by Muddypaws375



Category: Durarara!!, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: AU, Adventure, Also known as;, Blood, Crossover, Dragonbornzuo, Dragons, Fighting, Funny, Game/anime, Gore, I'm not sorry, Imperials, Mages, Magic, Memory Loss, Monsters, Multi, PTSD, Progressive insanity, Scary, Skyrim AU, Stormcloaks, When am I ever sorry actually, You didn't ask for this but you got it anyways., bandits, cursing, injuries, loss of power
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 01:47:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7020649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muddypaws375/pseuds/Muddypaws375
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shizuo awakens in an ancient Nordic land without any memory or idea as to how he’s gotten there, tied up and heading for the execution block. Reduced to feeble strength he’d never felt before, he wonders if perhaps this is a dream.  After a monster as black as the night sky manages to save him unintentionally, he discovers this false and begins his quest to find his way home. He travels along the plains, searching for his lost strength and discovering a sacred power within him as well as new secrets to the world he’d never known before.  Along the way, he finds himself frustrated as he spies familiar faces who don’t seem to know him at all. </p><p>Tangled in a world of magic, strength in words, Dragons, zombies and all sorts of creatures he’d never seen before, he finds himself enveloped in the new environment, as well as finding his memories of Ikebukuro beginning to disappear with every passing day. As time goes by, he begins to question if he’ll ever see the city he grew up with, as well as the people, ever again. </p><p>Or if he even wants to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suleykaar Mun Ko Keizaal

**Author's Note:**

> This is gonna be a long one.  
> The name means 'Powerful Man in Skyrim.' Cus i'm creative as fuck.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shizuo awakens to see nothing that looks like reality. He learns quickly that the falsities he see's might just be more real that he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know the drill. Repetition issues, the first chapter always sucks but this mother fucker is nice and long for a first chapter so feed that to your mind. 
> 
> WARNING: Skyrim Dialogue will be adjusted and I will add some of my own. Pretty sure you could have guessed that, though.

His head is fuzzy and heavy when he finally finds the strength to open his eyelids. As he slowly comes to, he hears the sound of dirt being moved along under the weight of what sounds to be wood accompanied by the clopping of horse hooves against gravel and stone. He moves his fingers a bit, testing to see if he can feel them as his whole body is blanketed in numbness. He’s satisfied to feel skin brushing against skin. However, in an attempt to uncross his arms that draped over his knees, he was disturbed to find he could not do so. He shut his eyes, sighing softly as he tugged once more. He continued to press on, biting his lower lip as he tried to force out that famous strength within him, yet he almost flinched as he felt tight rope biting into his skin. It merely stung but it was enough to get him to raise his head and look around.  
  
As his vision cleared, he saw the landscape of wood and blue skies slowly drifting by him and the wind of the area gently brushing against the skin of his cheek and neck. He blinked away the blur, turning his head a bit to examine what was before him, gritting his teeth at how stiff his neck was. He spied a blond man, nicely built, hair just rarely reaching the nape of his neck, ropes bound tightly around his wrists similar to Shizuo’s. This man is dressed in literal rags. Shizuo wonders if he’s wearing a burlap sack for a brief moment just before he spies the driver. A soldier, it appeared, mounted atop the horse-drawn-carriage that held him, hands tight on the reigns that drove the animal. He wondered why this man, possibly a cosplayer or something, was driving a carriage of all things. There were plenty of cars, were there not…?  
  
“Hey, you. You're finally awake,” Shizuo’s attention returns to the blonde man he had been eyeing before. It seemed he had noticed him stirring. “You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there.”  
  
The stranger tossed his head to his left, invoking Shizuo to follow his gaze and rest upon a man with dark hair that made his eye twitch. Gah, where was that familiar? No, it couldn’t possible be the flea. Even with how dirty this man's face was, he could tell it wasn’t him. Wrapped in rags and bound tightly, Shizuo began to sense a theme here. Prisoners? But why? He hadn’t done anything. Recently, at least. And the getup, what was up with that?  
  
"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. I could have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell," The dark haired man spat hatefully at the first, tossing his almost animalistic gaze towards Shizuo. "You there. We shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."  
  
“We’re all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief.” The first responded hastily before Shizuo could speak up. He didn’t even know if he could, his throat felt dry and scratchy. Water would be a blessing right about now.  
  
“Shut up, back there!” Barked the driver menacingly. There was silence for a moment before Shizuo heard something of a sigh, turning his head to peer at the man next to him. Dressed head to toe in fine fur, silk, leather. He could tell this was an important individual. But that didn’t explain why he was being gagged and tied up like a hog on a farm, just like he. He felt pity for this man, but he couldn’t explain why.

“What’s wrong with him, huh?” The Horse Thief inquired, speaking the brutes mind for him.

“Watch your tongue!” The original male spat heavily, almost offended, though Shizuo couldn’t tell why. His head was swimming as he tried to process what was happening. He hadn’t done a thing but look around and yet he felt exhausted. “You’re speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the True High King!”

_High King…?_

“Ulfric…? Jarl of Windhelm? You’re the leader of the rebellion. But… If they’ve captured you… Oh Gods, where are they taking us…?!” The Thief muttered in a worried manner, sudden fear caressing his expressions and unsettling the bartender just a bit. Where were they being taken? Nothing was making sense. He couldn't even find himself angry at this in the current moment.

“I don’t know where we’re going. But Sovngarde awaits us.” The first muttered dejectedly, his gaze casting down to the wooden planks that made up the floor of the carriage. “No… This can’t be happening. This sin’t happening!” Protested the thief, yet it seemed to be in vain. Silence ensued and left Shizuo to contemplate the current events. A stranger.

A Horse Thief. A High King, Jarl of something called ‘Windhelm.’ Sovngarde. All of it…

Sounded like pure, grade-A _bullshit._

He grit his teeth as he grew irritated. What sick bastard did this to him? Drugged him up and flung him onto some acting scene or whatever the hell this thing was. Who the hell did they think they were?! He’d kill ‘em. He’d kill ‘em dead. He’d kill ‘em deader than dead… Whatever. He’d play along, but only until he got bored or pissed. He’d play along, alright. Look for those damn cameras… Shove them up someone’s ass...

“Hey… What village are you from, Horse Thief?” The stranger said softly, drawing Shizuo’s attention back in, his voice tired and full of defeat. Fairly believable, for an actor. “Why do you care?”

“A Nord’s last thoughts… Should be of home.”

“... Rorikstead. I’m… I’m from Rorikstead…” The Thief admitted indignantly yet he still leaked a depressed tone. It sounded… All too real. Good actors, Shizuo thought.

“General Tullius, sir! The Headsman is waiting!!” He heard a voice call behind him, Shizuo being pulled from his judgement's to swing his head around again. “Good. Let’s get this over with.” An irritable and raspy voice replied.

“Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines… Please help me…!” The Thief whimpered. He was starting to get annoying. Shizuo pulled against the bindings again, confident in getting the hell out but to no avail. The ropes simply strained and cut deeper into his skin, making him hiss. The male across from him watched for a moment before his gaze turned to the front of the carriage, his face settling onto a scowl.

“Look at him; General Tullius the Military Governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves… I bet they had something to do with this…” He hissed as he glared onward. Forgetting his irritation for a moment, Shizuo followed his gaze and settled on a horse-mounted, silver haired man clad in armor decorated with what seemed to be medals and faint bloodstains. That must have been this General Tullius character. As for… The Thal… Thalmor, all he could spy were individuals also mounted on horses, their skin an odd yellow color and their features reminiscent to that of an elf. The makeup crew must have been really uptight, he supposed. He let his eyes carry back to his surroundings as he processed that they were now in a town of some sort. The set and development must have put in a shit ton of money for this place. Even the worn down walls look real. _Maybe they are? I wouldn’t hold it against a good producer to deny the best._

“This is Helgen… I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder is Vilod still makes that mead with Juniper Berries mixed in. Funny… When I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe…” The blond prisoner said in a mesmerized tone as he reminisced on something that wasn’t even likely true. Poor guy. He didn’t look like he wanted to be here. Shizuo glanced over his shoulder as he heard a small conversation between a man and his son.

“Get in the house, little cub.”

“Why? I wanna watch the soldiers.”

“Now.”

“Fine…” The child droned before standing from his sitting position on his porch, turning heel and heading inside the wooden home. The carriage noticeably began to slow and the Horse Thief grew tense and nervous. He had even worked up a thin sheet of sweat on his dirty body.

“Why are we stopping?” The nervous man questioned shakily, the carriage jolting just a bit as it came to a complete halt, the driver hopping down from his place to round up the four.

“Why do you think? End of the line.” The blond prisoner beside him shook his head slightly as he stood, motioning for Shizuo to do the same. “Let’s go. Shouldn’t keep the God’s waiting for us.” Shizuo huffed, complying though he really didn’t want to. Hopefully this would be over and he could go home, maybe have a smoke when he managed to find his way home.

“No, wait, we’re not rebels!” The Thief protest. “You’ve got to tell them; We weren’t with you! This is a mistake!!” A woman adorned in silver armor turned her attention to the prisoners who had hopped off the carriage, Shizuo included. She looked tough and fierce, which the bartender couldn't help but respect. Though, her helmet looked doofy. He didn’t know how she walked around with something like that on her head.

“Step towards the block when we call your name, one at a time.”

“Empire loves their damned lists…” The blond muttered irritably.

“Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm;” A man said, scribbling in a notebook with his feather-pen. How nice.

“It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric!” The same damn prisoner said respectfully. Did he ever shut up?

“Ralof of Riverwood,” The man said again. The prisoner beside Shizuo-- The Blabbermouth-- made his way over to where Ulfric had strode off to. Ralof, huh? What a name.

“Lokir of Rorikstead.”

“No, I’m not a rebel, you can’t do this!” The Horse Thief said loudly. Suddenly, the man broke into a run, zooming past the woman and the man, saying something that Shizuo didn’t bother to catch. The scene before him was a tad too interesting. If he weren’t bound up and in uncomfortably scratchy rags, as he had found out not minutes ago, he would have felt like he was at home watching tv. It seemed so surreal, he rarely registered the woman calling to her archers, an armed soldier pulling an arrow out of his quiver and lining it along his bow, fingers gripping it tightly before releasing. Shizuo watch and winced as he witnessed the weapon bury into Lokir’s back, the man giving a strangled yelp before collapsing to the ground in a heap, completely motionless. Ah…

“Anyone else feel like running?!” The woman barked angrily. Shizuo honestly didn’t have the balls to be sarcastic.

“Wait. You there… Step forward.” The man with the notebook commanded. Feeling his legs move on their own, Shizuo moved towards the pair slowly, cautiously stopping about five feet in front of them, brown eyes fixed on theirs as he tried to make out where their personalities faltered and where they could be thrown off script. To be honest, he felt nervous. He was hoping that Lokir was simply struck with a sleeping dart or… something. Maybe he was CGI all along? Hopefully.

“Who are you?” The individual asked. Shizuo swallowed the gathering saliva in his mouth to wet his trachea. It wasn’t water, but it was all he had in terms of wetting his throat enough to speak. Even as he spoke, his words were rasped and a bit low. “Shizuo Heiwajima...”

The man looked for his name, irritation etched onto his expression as he found nothing, looking up to look over Shizuo once more, sniffing.

“You picked a bad time to come home to Skyrim, kinsman.” Kinsman...? God, none of this was making sense. Jesus, this script and set was fucked. The name keep turned his head, glancing at the armored woman beside him. “Captain? What should we do? He’s not on the list.”

“Forget the list. He goes to the block.” She responded irately. Cruel.

“By your orders,” The man responded, his gaze returning to the bartender. “I’m sorry. At least you’ll die here; in your homeland.”

He had a shit ton more to say, more than you’d believe but he found his legs moving on their own again as he turned, making his way to stand next to Ralof at the block. His brown eyes found it difficult to settle on one thing as the moved from the captain, who had moved her way over to general Tullius, he hadn’t even noticed he came over to the execution area, to the block that stood beside the headsman. His axe, massive and blunt, was as bloodstained as the concrete block beside him and Shizuo was sincerely hoping it was just a good paint job and nothing more. He was growing painfully aware of the atmosphere and the distant chanting to ‘kill the Stormcloaks’ echoing in his head, as well as the sudden smell of smoke and copper. He didn’t like this at all. He strained against his bindings again but was reminded of the ropes cutting into his flesh as the stinging enveloping his wrists. Why wasn’t he capable of breaking them? He’d snapped street signs right out of the ground, surely this thick rope would be like thread to him!

General Tullius moved to stand in front of that Ulfric Stormcloak fella, a deep settled hatred within his eyes that Shizuo could see even from where he was standing. The bartender began to ponder what on earth this man had done to deserve such a hateful glare. “Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero, but a hero doesn’t use a power like the voice to murder his king and usurp the throne.”

Ulfric gave a slight growl, fidgeting a bit as irritation bit into his gaze, locking with Tullius’s. The General visibly ground his teeth together as his glare impossibly sharpened.

“You started this war, flung Skyrim into chaos. And now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace!” Tullius declared loudly as he swayed in place lightly, almost joyfully at the thought of finally destroying his competitor in a race Shizuo obviously didn’t understand. A distant noise echoed through the small town and bounced off the stone walls of the surrounding buildings.It didn’t sound natural, like the groaning of shifting plates under the crust or the distant cries of an animal or human being. It was deep and powerful and shook the blonde bartender all the way up his spine. He fidgeted again as something clicked in his brain, telling him something was wrong. None of this was correct. Even these people, who he still prayed were actors, nervously moved about.

“What was that?” The man from before who had taken his name in his notebook questioned in a hushed whisper, as if afraid something would hear him.

“Nothing. Carry on.” Tullius hissed. He wanted this over just as much as Shizuo, it seemed.

“Yes, General Tullius!” The captain said loudly, turning to a woman dressed in orange and yellow, an amber hood pulled over her head, casting a shadow over her face that Shizuo couldn’t exactly see past. “Give them their last rites.” The captain commanded. The monk looking woman nodded before raising her hands into the air, her gaze following her palms before her eyelids shut as she uttered her prayers. A priestess, perhaps?

"As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved...." She began but was cut off of her monologue as a warrior beside Shizuo, a red-haired fellow, stepped forward with an irritated growl.

“Come on! I haven’t got all morning!!” He barked as he made his way over to the bloody clock of concrete beside the headsman, standing in front of it as the priestess lowered her hands and huffed something under her breath. Shizuo was too distracted to really hear it as he watched the female captain place the bottom of her boot on the red-haired warriors back and shove him onto his knee, forcing him to lay along the block.

“My Ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?” He hissed, his voice without fear and filled to the brim with pride as he turned his head to the side to watch Shizuo, Ralof, Ulfric, all the men lined up.

Shizuo found himself exhale and stop right there as he waited, waited for the lights to go up, a curtain to rise, an audience to clap and cheer, anything to settle the fear rising in his chest…

But the only thing that came was the _schwuck_ of the ax as it came down heavily on the soldier's neck, decapitating him swiftly, his head flopping down uselessly into a basket in front of the block as his body went limp, the stump of his neck gushing and spurting what seemed to be gallons of blood. Shizuo felt himself retch as his blood went cold, the blonde bringing his bound hands up to cover his mouth as he stared in horror, the muscles of his trachea working endlessly to try and force the vile that crawled up his throat back down to his stomach where it belonged, the male hardly registering the chants and coos of the townsfolk all around him nor the short sentence Ralof uttered at his side and the soft thump as the captain kicked the headless body to the side like a sack of potatoes. It clicked, finally. Maybe it clicked a while ago, but a switch had definitely been thrown in his head. This wasn’t fake. It was all real. These people were real, that blood was real, his imminent death was all too real. It was furthered into reality as he caught the sight of the captain pointing right at him.

“Next, the nord!” She said loudly. Him? No… She probably wanted to get rid of him before anyone realized he wasn’t meant to be there. Another deep noise, closer this time, reverberated throughout the mountains and the old town. Shizuo snapped out of attention at the sound of it, shaking his head as he glanced into the sky, wincing and looking back down as he was blinded by the bright rays of the sun. That was stupid…

“There it is again…!” Said someone, he couldn’t remember who.

“I said; next prisoner.” The captain responded roughly.

“To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy,” Said a voice behind him.Oh, hell no! He stepped back but felt a hand press against his shoulder blade and shove him forward. Finally, after all this time, he found his voice.

“W-wait! I don’t belong here, I’m not a prisoner!! Stop touching me--!!” He spat as he squirmed against the captain and soldiers grip but to no avail. Of all the times in the world it could have happened, his strength failed him. He was left utterly helpless as they forced him to his knees and pressed his chest against the block that was warmed by the previous man’s blood. He felt his heart hammering against his ribs as his head was forced to the side, eyes widening as the stared at the remorseless axeman who raised his weapon without fail. He panted loudly as his muscles tightened, his fingers clenching and unclenching on some form of reflex, the sunlight glinting across the scarlet stained metal of the axe. He then noticed the glint falter for a moment and his eyes moved to peer behind the man looming above him, a shadow moving through the sky.

There was another noise-- No, a roar, loud as thunder in his ears as the shadow suddenly grew and formed the shape of a winged monster. The creature, black as night, dug his clawed feet into the tower directly behind the headsman and all Shizuo could do was stare, temporarily deaf to the shrill shrieks and cries of the people around him. His eyes locked onto the monsters ruby red orbs for a split moment before the beast's maw opened, flashing sharp, long teeth for a brief moment as the throat muscles widened to let out a thundering sound that made his eardrums throb. The sky behind the tower began to swirl as clouds appeared out of nowhere, a shape reminiscent of a hurricane appearing before rocks and fire fell from the sky like an apocalypse. The headsman was struck in the head with one of these rocks and sank to the ground as his head gushed more red liquid that Shizuo didn’t want to see for another millennia.

The previously powerful man managed to pull himself off the block and stand up, staring at the ground in shock, all sound completely gone. He could merely feel the soft rumbling of the sky and bodies thudding against the ground, his brain working frantically in an attempt to figure out what the fuck to do. It all snapped together in a violent shock as Ralof, the man from before, roughly shook his shoulder. Shizuo looked at him with wide, horrified eyes, searching for restitution or anything that made sense. Ralof seemed to notice this, nodding in measurement.

“Come on! The Gods won’t give us another chance!!” He said loudly, though it didn’t register until sound returned with the feel of a rock smashing into the ground beside him and obliterating. His legs, moved by some odd force once again, propelled him forward towards a tower where Ralof had pointed him. He bolted right inside and skidded to a halt right at the base of some stairs, his feet scraping and no doubt getting cut by loose rocks and rubble that pitter-pattered down the stairs and from the ceiling far above. His chest heaved as he tried to collect himself, his trachea muscles working tirelessly as they tried to force down saliva to wet his parched throat. As he took a moment to breathe, took a moment to really understand and figure out what was going on, he looked onward at Ralof who had used a dagger, possibly one he stole from the body of a burning soldier, and cut loose the Jarl guy, Ulfric.

“Jarl Ulfric… What is that thing? Could the legends be true?” Ralof asked with a bit of desperation in his voice as the Jarl spit his gag in a random direction, a bemused expression on his face as he locked eyes with the Stormcloak.

“Legends don’t burn down villages.” He responded dryly, all three of them, with the addition of a newly arriving warrior who sped up the stairs, flinched as the ground suffered a tremor of the dragon's wrath. Ralof roughly patted Shizuo on the shoulder to gain his attention, the bartender staring at him with a wide, wild gaze. He could hardly hear anything past the blood rushing in his ears as his heart pounded in his chest.

“We need to move! Now, up the stairs!!” Shizuo gave a small nod before turning tail and sprinting up the stone steps as fast as he could, the skin of his bare feet stinging with displeasure as the texture that struck the pads of his feet. He dashed as far up as he could go, hesitating to stare at a soldier who was moving to climb over the rubble of the collapsed ceiling in front of him. Shizuo thinks he heard him say something but the thought quickly left his mind as the wall to his right exploded in a fury, flying chunks of bricks smashing into the soldier and knocking him down the flight of stairs to, most likely, his death.

Shizuo stumbled a bit, his eyes catching those ruby red eyes once again. It just stared at him, peered into his soul before it opened its maw again, the slight sound of fire igniting telling Shizuo that it wasn’t the best idea to stand and stare like a statue. He took wide steps back until he fell backwards, his back hitting the stairs and causing him to wince. However, it was better than facing the inferno before him, the dragon’s gaping mouth spurting flames like a flame thrower. He felt the heat against his feet and legs and it told him that everything was real, if the knock to the back of the head wasn’t enough for him already. The bout of fire had ceased and he was being helped to his feet by Ralof before he even knew it, the fair haired Stormcloak pushing him forward to the hole that the monster had created. He was utterly relieved to see that terrible thing had gone away. He had hoped the thing had gone away but the roars that continued to blare through the sky told him differently.

“You see that inn over there?” He heard Ralof say over his shoulder. The brutes brown eyes cast downward to the gaping hole of the inn’s roof, slightly on fire but leading into the roof of the used-to-be establishment. “Jump across and make your way out of here. We’ll follow as quickly as we can!”

He was more than ready to protest but the hand on his back that shoved him forward put his legs on autopilot again. He leapt forward, just rarely making it into the hole and hitting the wood floor inside hard. He grunted, laying on his belly briefly before the adrenaline in his body forced him to his feet, the male coughing dryly past the smoke in the air as his eyes tore from side to side to look for an exit. He caught sight of the collapsed roof in front of him and dashed forward, jumping down into the main interior of the shop and running right through a conveniently placed opening. He was encountered by a few men and a young boy, the one from earlier, kneeling beside his father, the man holding his side that was gushing dark red blood into the dirt and sand below him. The man told the boy to go, that he needed to follow the rest of the soldiers no matter what. The boy was obviously reluctant yet he pulled back to be gripped by a soldier and pressed against a wall, the armored man shielding him with his body as that damned creature crashed down in front of the poor man.

He bid farewell to his son. Called him a ‘brave young boy’ before he was incinerated just like that.

He could only stare in horror until his sleeve was yanked harshly, Shizuo stumbling before facing a man who seemed familiar. That guy who took his name down… “We have to stick together, prisoner! Follow me, closely, and don’t back at anyone, understand?!”

He nodded numbly. It was all he could seem to do. His mind was racing and his heart was thudding so hard, he could rarely hear much past the blood rushing about violently in his veins, transporting oxygen as quickly as it could to prevent him from passing out because he was goddamned near ready to. The man grabbed him by his arm and tugged him along, the pair dashing behind a building and making a sharp right, Shizuo nearly falling over as the male guided him through the wreckage of rubble that could once be called a house. The heat at his back and smoke in the air rarely even registered to him anymore. He was following almost blindly at this point. After dashing under an archway, one that looked ready to collapse, the man scowled at Ralof who squeezed his way past rubble on the side opposite the pair.

“Ralof!” He called. The blonde scowled.

“You’re not stopping us, Hadvar! We’re escaping!!” He said adamantly as he made his way over to Shizuo slowly, dagger raised defensively. Hadvar growled loudly, ready for a fight, the veins in his arms tensing but faltering as a sudden woosh of the monster flying over head nearly threw all three of them off their feet. The imperial did a double take of the sky and the prisoners before shaking his head and dashing past them.

“Fine! Die for all I care, just stay out of my way!!” And with that, he disappeared into the massive structure beside them. Ralof patted Shizuo’s arm roughly before pulling the poor man along, heading for a tower just ahead of them as the sky rumbled and the archway behind them collapsed under the weight of the beast who brought hell unto the poor village. Shizuo could hear nothing but screams and the sight of blood was becoming way too familiar way too fast.

 

\---------------------------- _Unbound: In the Keep_ \---------------------------------

 

The space around them is massive but dimly lit. The skylight above provides an efficient amount of rays to see, of course, but it’s still all too dark. The air is thick with dust from under use but it’s better than the smoke and debris outside. They can both hear the dragons’ roar that occasionally shakes the entire establishment but Ralof shows little concern, so Shizuo doesn’t think much of it. In fact, he doesn’t think much of anything. He’s exhausted. Physically and mentally. His wrists are bloody and swollen from the damn bindings that he can’t seem to break even though they’re nothing but thick rope. He spends half the time wondering why he can’t break them, the other half trying to figure out where his strength could have gone. Alas, his head is pounding and he can’t think long enough without it straining his occipital nerves and the general front area of his head. He loses it when he see’s Ralof kneeling beside a fallen companion. The Stormcloak is muttering something about that Sovngarde place again and tentatively stroking the arm of the bloody body as he mourns. Shizuo stares for a time, swaying slightly in place, nodding slightly to himself as he gathers up information he’s learned so far. However, nothing comes to mind other than the visions of bloody bodies, that man being incinerated again and again… The guy at the chopping block, how swiftly the blood in his body escaped and pooled around him as his head toppled into the basket in front of him like an apple. He smells the blood. It’s coppery and generally metallic. It’s not long before he tastes it, the scene replaying over and over in his head. He wanders over to a wall in the brief moment of silence and kneels down onto the floor. He stares at the brick foundation below him, his breath becoming heavy and hot. He holds his bound hands close to his gut, just rarely presses against it.

He gives a slight burp just before emptying the contents of his stomach onto the floor.

It tastes terrible and it hurts his stomach to be retching as hard as he was, the muscles of his abdomen contracting in the most violent of ways as he rids himself of the vile that had climbed up his throat. When he’s done, his chest heaves and he feels tears racing down his cheeks. He can’t tell if it’s just the body's reaction to throwing up or if he’s actually crying. He flinches as he feels a hand on his shoulder, his head twisting around and making him dizzy on the spot. Ralof pat his shoulder, giving it a light shake as he nods in understanding. He doesn’t seem to disappointed. He doesn’t seem disappointed at all.

“I’m guessing you’ve never seen anything like that before?” He asks carefully. Shizuo nods, swallowing anything that threatened to come up as he shakily brought himself to his feet, Ralof helping him steady and ensure he doesn’t fall forward on his vomit.

“I can tell that’s the first time you’ve seen death. I remember feeling the same way. I think I even reacted the same, if it helps.” He tries with a small smile but he knows it’s in vain. Shizuo brings his bound hands to wipe his face of tears and Ralof brightens a bit. 

“Here; Let me get those bindings off.” The nord slides the blade in between the flesh of Shizuo’s wrists carefully, gently sawing through the rope before it gives a small snap and releases him. The bartender rubs his sore wrists after shaking out his hands, managing a ‘thank you’, though it was fairly weak. The stormcloak leaves him be for a few moments to allow him to collect himself, busying himself by stripping his fallen companion of his armor. He stands again, moving to the other blonds side and offering the blood-stained gear.

“Here; Take Gunjar’s gear. He won’t be needing it anymore.” Shizuo is hesitant. Wearing a dead man’s armor seemed dirty and disrespectful to him. However, it was better than the rags and burlap sac he was wearing currently.

There’s a considerable amount of fumbling about and some help from the Nord before he’s fully dressed in the armor. It’s heavy and he doesn’t particularly like how cold it feels on his skin. He decided not to think about it too much as he adjusts the grieves on his arms for the eighth time. The skin on his wrist is irritated and so sore, when Ralof hands him Gunjar’s axe and he grabs it out of reflex, he can rarely hold onto it. Ralof decides he’d be better off standing aside for now and letting him handle things. Shizuo agrees with this. He’d rather not kill anyone. He didn’t want anyone here to die in the first place.

_“C’mon!”_

There’s a sudden clatter as a door opens off in another room and Ralof shoves him down beside the table, telling him to be quiet and don’t move. He freezes where he was placed, holding his breath even. He recognized that voice. The woman from before, the captain chick…

“Get this gate open.” She barked to her subordinates. There’s silence and then with a slight whirring noise, the gate in question raised and she steps through, accompanied by three men. Shizuo felt his chest tighten as he looked at Ralof who was positioned behind a crevasse in the wall. How on earth could he possibly do this by himself…? He is answered when Ralof slams the blade of his axe into one of the men's nape of the neck and the man falls to the floor after a second, broad swipe to the back. The second man spun around in a flurry and charged, reading his sword but he seemed a bit too late. The nord swiped widely at the imperial, slicing right across his chest before coming down roughly onto his head. There was a sickening crack that echoed in the room and made Shizuo flinch.

“You rebel bastard!” The captain screamed as she charged with her own sword, swiping and slashing Ralof’s left, upper arm. He winced, grunting but retaliated by spinning his body and harshly swiping across her abdomen where there was a crunch and squish, the blade of his axe digging into her flesh and crushing it’s way through her organs. He pulled his axe out and kicked her down, the woman grunting and gurgling against the blood that began to flood her pharynx. Shizuo could merely pity her. Ralof searched her body briefly, invading her personal space, as if she hand any anymore, before sinking a hand into a pocket and pulling out a key.

“There. C’mon, let’s go.” He said, quickly moving to the barred door on the opposite side of the room. Shizuo was quick to follow, his knees popping as he stood and made his way over to the soldier, his borrowed armor clanking lightly. The pair exited the circular room with the fallen imperials and went to the left, striding rather swiftly down a flight of stairs that curved a bit before they were met with a hallway. Further down, he could see a few people but he had no idea if they were friend or foe. Though it didn’t seem to matter much anymore as the room above collapsed and blocked the path to them, rocks smashing against each other and creating painful claps of pressure that hurt Shizuo’s ears a bit.

“Looks like we’re not going that way…” Ralof muttered, Shizuo nodding in agreement.

“C’mon.” Ralof pulled him into the only available entryway, another wooden door that creaked lightly upon opening. The stormcloak entered first, crouching down and motioning for the blonde behind him to do the same as he snuck in. The brute wasn’t sure why he was doing so up until he heard a voice booming across the room.

“Grab everything we can and let’s go.” A gruff voice said. It appeared to belong to another imperial in the same garments as the female captain back upstairs. Rough, heavy armor. His colleague, who was rummaging through a barrel and saying something about potions, wore lighter armor, the garments seeming to be made out of nothing but rough leather and straps. Shizuo remember how easily Ralof hacked through the other soldiers and began to ponder how well any of the imperial armor was made. The stormcloak told him to sit tight, as he did before. He made his way over after with much struggling, yelling and grunting, the fight was over and Ralof called him out.

Shizuo stood, taking a moment to observe to room. A fireplace with a dining table and animal carcasses strewn about on strings as they hung by their feet. Other ingredients, some leafy stuff and garlic it looked like, were hung about in the same manner. Seeing all the food made his stomach grumble, especially when he caught sight of cheese slices and bread on the dining table just across from him. He slowly strode over, his belly growling yet again. However, just before he could even reach out to anything, he heard Ralof’s voice echo about.

“Look around. See if you can find any potions. Little red, blue or green bottles.”

Red, blue and green bottles? Seemed simple enough. He tore his gaze from the alluring food and looked up at a cabinet. A little blue bottle. He was doing good so far. He picked it up and placed it carefully inside the small pouch attached to his armor, closing the flap after setting it down inside. He rooted around a bit more but found nothing. Then it clicked; the barrel that guy was looking in… He stepped over to the barrels, avoiding the sight of the two bodies that were making a pool of blood beneath them, and opened the lid to the one in question. He had to stand on his toes to reach them but he managed to scoop up two red bottles and one green one. He had one of each color! Now, the matter of figuring out what they did…

“Got everything? Good. Let’s keep moving.” Ralof barked, snapping the blonde back to attention and making him scurry back to the soldiers side, his hands still being careful about putting the bottles into the pouch. Ralof pushed open the second door in the room and led the other male as he had been, the pair trailing down another flight of stairs. Shizuo began to wonder how they were going to get out of here if they just kept going deeper. The whole point was to escape, wasn’t it? They weren’t hiding underground for eternity, were they? Then again, he could hardly hear the monster by now. The only noises that came were the rumbles of the stone walls and the sound of dust and sand falling from the ceiling, some of it catching in his hair. He shook his head and gave a slight cough, wiping his nose and eyes. Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.

The sudden crackling of an unknown sound filled his ears accompanied by shouting, grunting and metal hitting leather. Another fight? What was this place supposed to be anyways, a battling area of sorts? He heard Ralof’s breath catch in his throat and the brute looked at him with brown-amber eyes. 

“Gods… A torture room…” The nord muttered and Shizuo felt his heart flutter at the words. Not in a good way, either. He allowed the warrior to take charge and rush into the room, the blonde staying behind to observe. There was a man wearing armor like most of the other soldiers Ralof had hacked down before, except he was wearing a hood and… And he was shooting lightning from his hands.

Lightning.

From his _hands_.

It was a spectacle in his own and he supposed this was some form of magic. Though, it definitely looked like it hurt. A woman clad in armour similar to Ralof’s and his won took the full brunt of it and he could see how her muscles tensed and squirmed under her skin with each volt of electricity that coursed through her body and stunned her. He began to fear for her safety and his fingers gripped the brick wall beside him. He found it strange that the hardy material didn’t crack under his weight like it used to, but the thought was only there for a moment. This woman was dying right in front of him and he couldn’t do anything but stare, watch her start to convulse and cry out. He swallowed harshly and for once, he was glad Ralof dug the blade of his weapon into the attacker's skull. Not for a sick, twisted sense of seeing his death, but for the sake of this poor woman.

As Ralof dealt with the second man in the room, having to leap over the body of this woman's assumed companion, Shizuo went to her side and gently took her by the arm. She held onto him with a free hand as he guided her to her feet and she gave a thankful nod, giving his arm a rough pat and when she shook herself free from his grasp and sheathed her sword, striding away to an opening, he knew that even for a woman, she was a force to be reckoned with. Getting up after such an attack was astounding and Shizuo wasn’t sure if he could ever do that himself. He hoped he wouldn’t have to.

“Look at this,” Ralof said as he positioned himself next to a cage. Inside was another corpse of someone dressed in robes. Beside him a book and a few pieces of gold. It was kind of funny; they reminded him of pirate treasure or something and he wondered why of all places little coins like those would be here. Then again, he didn’t exactly see a shopping mall nearby and he didn’t expect anyone to be carrying a twenty dollar bill on them. “There’s some lock picks in that knapsack over there. You can try to open the cage and get the gold if you want; we might need it.”

Shizuo decided against the idea. If the gold previously belonged to the deceased man, he wasn’t to eager to take it. Villain or not, he’d respect his privacy in death. He was quick to follow the nord down another pathway, feeling a companionship building. It was probably a little too early to pass out friendship bracelets but here, in this place where Shizuo wasn’t sure what reality or falsity was, he’d look to Ralof for answers and guidance.

There wasn’t much to report about the next room. A few cages hanging from the ceiling, a few carrying skeletons which looked all too real for Shizuo to even consider them being plastic. One of which had a fairly new corpse within it. The ex-bartender felt his stomach lurch as a mouse leapt down from the cage and scurried off, Shizuo only noticing that the small creature had been using the body as a source of food when he got close enough to it. He paced himself and kept to the warriors side, refraining from exploring by himself again. It didn’t seem like a very good idea. The further down they went, the louder voices became. Ralof and Shizuo, accompanied by the woman they had saved prior, tensed and crouched, creeping forward. Ralof took lead, placing himself directly at the wall of the entrance that came into view and peering in.

“I’m not standing around to be killed by a dragon!” A soldier complained. A conversation ensued from there but the snap of Ralof’s fingers prevented him from further eavesdropping.

“There aren’t that many so me and the lass will handle it. You stay right here and don’t come out until I come get you, alright?” Ralof said, turning and shifting a bit before hesitating and swinging his head back around to look at the other. “By the way, I don’t believe I ever caught your name.”

A moment of silence and staring followed before Shizuo caught on, managing an 'uh’ before clearing his throat, keeping his voice nice and low as to not alarm the guards in the next room. “Shizuo. Shizuo Heiwajima.”

“Shi-zu-o, huh? It's strange. I like it.” Ralof murmured back before turning away, missing the small, prideful smile on the lessers face. To think; a cool, powerful warrior like him liked his name. It was a bit flattering to say the least.

“Stay quiet, Shizuo.” And he did just that. He was in silence the whole time as Ralof and the female warrior entered the room. It wasn’t long before the first ‘hyaaaaah!!’ came with the clanging of steel against steel. The whole other room erupted in a sound of a struggle and Shizuo couldn’t help but feel his legs tingle and his heart ache.

He felt horrendously useless sitting there like a child waiting for his mother. If he had a right mind to, he would run in there and throw all those bastard-- What were they called-- Imperials through a wall and into the stone floor beneath them. But he couldn’t. For once, he needed this supernatural burden that had plagued him for years but now that it was required in an actual life or death situation, it was completely gone. It was so surreal to be so weak and powerless, letting others take care of situations for him. He supposed this was how most people felt around him, looking up to someone with immense power who could take control of the situation. Of course, he himself looked up to people. Tom was the main one, of course, but it was all more from a wisdom aspect as he could take care of physical situations himself. Now that he was stripped of his strength and tossed in this dark, musty, cave-like place wearing some strangers bloody armor, following people he didn’t know but trusted like old friends, he felt so… Small and insignificant.

As he sat there, listening vaguely to the clashing and clanging of metal accompanied by screams and battle cries, he suddenly found himself thinking of that no good bastard, Izaya Orihara. The bane of his existence. This had to be his fault, it just had to be. Izaya was responsible for everything that went wrong. He’d been egging Shizuo on for years with stupid taunts and throwing knives at him for as long as he could remember. A hand rose to idly run across his chest plate, as if to feel the scar hidden under layers of leather and armor. The scar that sealed his hatred for the flea.

That bastard Izaya… How did he do this one? He was always meddling with shit that wasn’t his, always fucking around with the world. Shizuo suddenly scoffed to himself. Granted, the no-good flea was good at manipulating the environment, he wasn’t sure if the bastard could actually transport him to a completely new world. And if he did, all the more reason to hate him. All the more reason to smash a mailbox against his stupid head.

His thoughts eventually traveled to home itself, his quaint little apartment, his bed that he longed to stretch out in, his tv, his fridge. His fridge… Man, he was hungry. Especially after expelling his guts quite a few floors up. Thinking about food made his mind wander to Russia Sushi. He’d kill for some old fashions sushi, man, he could almost smell it. Fatty tuna, Hosomaki, some Nigiri… He then thought about Simon. Such a friendly man but he never listened. Much like Shinra, that idiotic pervert. How Celty dealt with him could never traverse his mind as comprehensible.

The grumble in his belly was replaced with a sudden sickness. He wasn’t about to throw up again, no, he… He was home sick. He wanted to get out of here, leave this musky place and go home. Go back to his house, flop into his bed and go to sleep. He wanted to text Kasuka like always, ensure he was ok. He wanted to be able to tell Tom he wouldn’t make it into work today. Hell, he’d even tell the flea that he missed throwing shit at his ugly face if it meant he could go home or see something, _anything_ familiar, hear a familiar voice, see something that he _knew_. He hated it here, hated how much death he had seen in the span of what couldn’t be more than an hour or two. None of this was fair. Why couldn’t the world pick on someone else, why him? What did he do? Was this his punishment for all those street signs he pulled up? He was sorry. He was unquestionably filled with remorse and he just wanted to apologize. But to who… That was just another mystery to put on the list.

There was a sudden sound of silence and it made the blonde tense. He swallowed yet again, turning his head slowly as the sound of silent clanking armor approached. He looked into the room and found only Ralof stalking towards him, panting a bit heavily. The woman from before was nowhere in sight. “C’mon, it’s clear. Let’s go.”

Shizuo stood from his little hiding spot and rounded the corner to enter the larger foyer reminiscent area. There was probably a lot to see in this place, what with the sounds of dripping water and the small amount of light peeking in, but as always, the brute was too busy staring in faint shock at the bodies decorating the floor. He scanned over them, searching until finally gray and blue mixed with the red, almost black liquid caught his attention. He felt a sudden despair in his gut, knowing that even after all the effort, he couldn’t save her in the end. This whole ‘realizing your own mortality’ gimmick was really starting to bring him down.

He followed Ralof to a drawbridge where the exerted warrior pulled a lever and the thing came crashing down with creaky groans, casting up dust upon landing that made Shizuo cough. He heard his companion give a small chuckle before pressing onward, the taller male following without fail. As they entered a room with even more stairs, though it was a much smaller flight, they descended down to a small water outlet that gushed a stream over rocks and created a fairly soothing sound that was dulled out for the moment as the ground rumbled yet again and the entrance they previously came from was completely blocked off by another cave-in of rocks.  The cracking of the massive chunks of rocks scared Shizuo to all Oblivion and he almost jumped out of his skin, his ears ringing after the dust had settled behind him. Ralof said something else but it fell on literally deaf ears, Ikebukuro’s fortissimo following with wobbly steps as the Stormcloak went even further into this chasm of a keep.

The next room was just a nightmare. He’d like to say he was joking, but a literal goddamn nightmare that Stephen King couldn’t even shit into a book.

Giant. Fucking. _Spiders._

They were the most disgusting things that he had ever seen since that day when he first met Izaya. These horrific monstrosities had too many eyes to count, they walked on eight legs and had an extra two in the front right by those horrifically large pincers, that were dripping and spiked mind you,  that acted as arms or something. To top it off, when he said ‘giant’ he wasn’t saying like ‘oh, these lil things can fit in your hand.’ No, they were almost as big as him, if not, bigger. He hated looking at them, they made him squirm so uncomfortably and the fact that they even made _noises_ … By God.

He had no idea how Ralof got so close to them but he was elated when they were dead. When they fell to the ground, their carcasses crumpled up and crunched as they crushed their own long, hairy legs under them and Shizuo physically cringed and shivered. Again, Ralof chuckled at him but this time Shizuo wasn’t laughing at himself on the inside. In fact, he had half of a mind to punch the warrior in his face, however, he didn’t find that to be entirely wise so he refrained from doing so.

He did the usual deed of following the Stormcloak like a puppy down another winding path that seemed to just take them deeper and deeper inside. Shizuo was kind of getting tired of seeing this place; It all looked the same. Same dark paths that were crumbling apart and dropping sand in his hair. He no doubt needed a bath as he could practically smell himself and it didn’t smell like roses to be quite frank. His hands had somehow gotten dusty and he just felt grimy. He was hesitant to ask if there was a shower at all near this place but he realized how stupid a question that would be before even voicing it. Entering the next ‘room’, he noticed another outlet of water and pondered for a moment if Ralof would tolerate him jumping in to rinse himself up as they crossed over a bridge-like rock structure, his brown-amber eyes watching the small stream run over the cave rocks. His thoughts were dashed, a sharp _‘Shh!’_ hitting his ears and instantly making him crouch down.

“Over there!” The bright haired male said as he pointed a slightly scarred finger forward, the ex-bartender following his gaze towards a fat, black lump quite a distance away. A… Rock…?  “Cave bear.” Ralof answered as if he were reading the younger male’s thoughts. Shizuo would have rathered it to be a rock.

“I’d rather not tangle with her. Let’s sneak past, alright? Be silent.” He said in a hushed tone of voice, the other responding with a quiet nod. The two began to creep on by, Shizuo stiffening each time his boot scuffed against the ground loudly or a rock got kicked and the bear shifted. He kept his eyes on here the whole time, watching her massive sides heave with each breath she took in her large lungs, the way her fur bent and molded against her most likely thick and tough skin. He could see her gleaming claws, how dark they were and how they caught the little light in the cave. He could tell just by her claws alone how much damage she could do. At this moment, she was stronger than him and she could easily carve him open like a newborn calf. He’d rather avoid that ending as much as he could.

When Ralof stood, he found comfort in standing as well, his knees popping and making him grunt. His legs were just plain sore from running and moving around so much. He was used to this burn when he’d chase the flea around Ikebukuro like a game of cat and mouse but now it was just a weight he was having trouble holding. His lungs were still on fire and he was dying for a drink. He wanted to turn right around and just drink away at that small stream he had seen but he’d rather not risk pissing off both the bear and the Stormcloak he had been tailing through this dungeon.

He couldn’t imagine how Ralof was feeling, now that he thought about it. The man had charged into every battle and came out victorious but he was no doubt feeling exhaustion weighing on him as well. Then again, this person clearly had experience and the body structure to handle this kind of stuff. If he wasn’t flagging at all, like he wasn’t now, Shizuo truly had a reason to admire him. Sure, he was taller than the warrior by an inch or two but he wasn’t sure height really mattered when it came to true strength and the ability to slay enemies and be okay ending someone’s life, walking away with blood on his face like war paint. This was truly a man to be feared and admired and there were no doubt more people just like him in this world of dragons, witchcraft and death.

“Look!” The man in question said as he picked up his pace, running towards a massive hole in the wall that cast a bright light onto the floor which grew snowy the closer they came to it. “I think this is our way out!”

Hearing that, Shizuo braced himself as his eyes began to sting against the bright rays of sunshine that invaded the dark cave. He felt excitement fill his heart as complete desire for freedom and light left a sweet taste on his tongue. Ralof vanished in a white haze and Shizuo was quick to follow him, closing his eyes to adjust to the new world beyond the sheet of white light.

  


\------------------------------- _Unbound: Outside At Last_ \------------------------------

  


When his eyes finally adjusted to the sunlight he thought he’d never see again, he found himself at awe.

This environment seemed to be torn right out of a storybook. Gorgeous flowers dotting along in random spots against the perfectly green grass that wasn’t too vivid but it wasn’t brown and dead. Tree’s climbing up high to touch the clear blue skies, birds chirping loudly and chasing dragonflies and torchbugs, butterflies fluttering about and perching themselves on a few fallen logs that were covered in moss and vines. Off in the distance, the mountains were a light blue shade that was dressed with a lighter shade of blue which he could only guess to be snow. He noticed an odd structure on a closer, much more defined and gorgeous mountain. Arches, all different sizes but given how they looked at a distance, he could only imagine how massive they really were.

It was breathtaking, truly. He’d always wanted to come to a place like this, somewhere in the woods and see beautiful places like this. His ties to Ikebukuro always prevented it, however. He would have given everything to ask for a week r two off of work to just get away and take some time for himself, just to get away from it all. However, with that flea still roaming about in the city and making everyone suffer for his own amusement, he felt an obligation to stay until the vermin was exterminated.

Now that he thought about it… How on earth would he protect Ikebukuro now that he wasn’t there to do the very thing he was supposed to? With him gone, who knew what hell the city was facing. He clenched his fists just thinking about it and the beauty of the surrounding area was suddenly oblique to him.

“Wait!” Ralof said, yanking Shizuo down to the ground by his shoulder as the warrior crouched himself.  The ex-bartender wasn’t sure what the sudden panic was for until he heard a loud flap of wings and felt wind nearly knock him forward as the beast flew overhead. Thankfully, it either didn’t take notice or it couldn't care less that they were there as it flew with the currents of the wind, gliding carelessly away until it faded from sight. Hopefully forever.

“Looks like we finally made it out. Hopefully we won’t be seeing that thing again.” Ralof said as he stood, yanking Shizuo right back up with him. The blond had to steady himself for a moment, exhaustion almost knocking him right on his ass. Luckily, the Stormcloak kept a tight hold on him and he managed to stay up and coherent.

“You ok, friend?” He asked, looking over the skinnier male and observing just how wiped out he looked. Shizuo didn’t much care for the scrutinizing gaze. At this point, he was far too tired to care. Shizuo nodded slowly, rubbing his eyes and shaking himself back to attention before looking at the other male right in the eyes.

“I’m fine. It’s… It’s been a long day.”

“No doubt. Well… C’mon, then.” He said, turning and making his way down the dirt path. Shizuo blinked, then blinked again in bewilderment. Why would this guy want him to keep following? He’d done nothing but sit and whine like a dog the whole time he was trailing his footsteps.

“... You want me to come with you?” He asked as he jogged to catch up with the warrior, panting a bit of his words out as his muscles complained with an incessant burn.

“Of course. It would be cruel to send a man with no knowledge of how to wield an ax out into the world by himself,” He said as he went along, boots scuffing against the dirt as they went down an incline. “My sister Gerdur lives in Riverwood. It’s not to far away. I won’t doubt she’ll let you rest and give you something to put in your belly. Once we rest up, I’ll show you want I can until I know you can go off on your own. For now, stick with me. Skyrim is a dangerous place.”

 

As if he didn’t figure that part out himself.

 

\-------------------------------------------------

**Quest Completed**

\-------------------------------------------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yea, Shizu-chan was kind of a pansy-ass-bitch in this first chapter but it's how I truly feel like he would have reacted. He's not a killer and he doesn't want to be one either. He'll avoid confrontation until it comes to the point where he simply can't anymore.
> 
> Give me quests you'd like to see Shizuo do. Also, should Shizuo's first weapon be a ax, a sword or a bow? Give me your answer and the reason why and I'll see you all in the next chapter. I hope you enjoy this fic as much as I know I will.   
> ~Muddy

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any opinions or ideas for side quests Shizuo can do, tell me, I'd love to hear them. 
> 
> And for the side quests, no miscellaneous. Those are always boring and I never do them anyways cus they pile up too fast. Nothing that'll affect the main story too dramatically. The Dragonborn and Dawnguard DLC are also off limits.


End file.
